Drabbles
by Cat2000
Summary: A series of little drabbles based around the show...
1. Hiding The Pain

**Hiding the Pain**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** The first in a series of little drabbles… Dean's POV. Can be taken from anywhere towards the end of the series

**Warning(s):** Um… References to violence; spoilers

* * *

It's so easy to hide the pain, so easy to pretend that things don't hurt.

I've been doing it since Sam and I were children. It's always been easy; automatic. I'm the big brother, after all. I pretend that things don't hurt because I know that Sammy's always looked up to me, known that I'll always protect him.

Even if he doesn't want it…

I made that promise when Dad gave me Sammy and told me to take him outside when our house burned down. I've done my best to keep that promise. Even when Sam left to go to Stanford, I knew that I'd always be able to tell when he was in any kind of danger, and arrive in time to protect him from it.

But I can't make the pain go away, no matter how hard I try. I can hide it… But one day it'll all come out.

I just hope that it doesn't cause anyone else to be hurt.

The worst was when Sam left to go to college. I understood why he needed to do it – hell, I _still_ understand that he needed to live his own life, live his own dreams. And, even though it hurt to lose my brother like that, I was willing to let him go, if it meant that he would be happy. I'd give up everything to see my brother happy…

It hurt when I had to drag him out of the apartment, away from his dying girlfriend. Sammy never said anything, but I know that he's asking, _Why did you take me away from her?_

I wish I had the answers, Sammy…

It hurt when he shot me with rock salt, and I don't just mean in my chest where it hit. I told him that I forgive him, accepted his apologies – but, damn it, it still hurt when he pulled the trigger. Three times.

But I'll never tell him.

Sam doesn't need to know how much I hurt – and if this tears me up inside, then so be it. I'll do anything to keep my brother safe.

I won't let him hurt… Not like I do.


	2. Brother's Love

**Brother's Love**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** "If only my love could save you…"

**Warning(s):** Spoilers; AU; character death

* * *

"Dean…"

I close my hands over your wounds, but there are so many of them. Your red life fluid flows over my skin, and I sob, praying to whatever god is listening that you'll be all right.

"… Sammy…" Your hands close over mine, your eyes seeking out and holding onto my own. You don't offer words of comfort. There are none, and we both know it.

"Burn my bones…" you manage to get out in a pained whisper.

More tears spill down my cheeks, mingling with the rain that's dripping off my chin. How can you make jokes at a time like this? But then, I forget – it's your nature to make light of a situation.

I'd go to the ends of the earth if it would save you. If my love could save you, I'd pour it into you until you couldn't hold anymore. But all I can do now is hold onto you and cry.

"Sammy…"

"Don't talk," I plead, continuing to do all that I can to hold your life – your blood – inside you. I know that you're going to say goodbye, and I can't, I _won't_, hear it from you.

I should remember you don't take well to being bossed around.

"Sammy…" you say again. "If you get yourself killed, I'll kick your ass."

I give a trembling smile, even as more tears start. That's such a Deanish thing to say. "Please don't die," I whisper, _willing_ you to be all right. "I can't… Not you. I'm so sorry, Dean."

You give a pained smirk. "Isn't that just like you, Sammy? Willing to go to the ends of the earth to change something you don't like."

"I love you," I whisper, for once not caring that you're pretty much allergic to anything regarding feelings. It's not like it matters anymore.

_Nothing_ matters anymore.

"Yeah… Me too," you say quietly. "Hey, Sammy… Where do you think I'm going to end up?"

"In heaven," I whisper, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "No one deserves to end up there more than you do."

You smile gently. "I'll see you there… But make sure I'm waiting a good long while." Your body arches a little as the pain from your wounds gets too strong, and then you go limp, the light in your eyes dying.

I let out a scream of pure agony and sorrow, and clutch at your body, my tears mingling with the rain and washing away your blood…


	3. Bonds

**Bonds**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** A little drabble on the events after _Asylum_

**Warning(s):** Spoilers up to and including episode ten

**Author's Note:** This is the third Supernatural drabble (finally). I hope people are finding these enjoyable to read – but these are written as much for myself as for other people, so… As long as people don't completely hate them

* * *

"No, I'm not in the caring, sharing kind of mood." Dean turned to get into the car, and I couldn't help noticing the way he was limping. I didn't really hear what else he said.

It wasn't like it really mattered.

I got into the car – on the passenger side – and closed the door, half-wondering if Kat and Gavin were going to be able to recover from what had happened. I hoped that they would be able to – but I was pretty certain that they had lost their innocence now.

Dean put the car into gear, and I glanced sideways at him. "You sure you don't want me to drive?"

"I already said that I'm fine." Dean kept his eyes on the road, but I could see the tightness in his jaw. We didn't talk much about emotional issues – but I know my brother better than anyone else, and I could see that what had happened had affected him.

What _I_ had done.

Damn… This was so difficult. Dean's never been easy to apologise to – and _this_ was quite a big thing. Nothing like that time when we were kids and got into that fighting match. This was so much worse.

I should have been able to fight it, to fight the doctor's possession. I shot my big brother with rock salt. I would have shot him with actual bullets as well.

If it wasn't for Dean's foresight in removing the bullets from the gun, he could have been dead by now.

"Huh? What are you doing?" I asked as I became aware of the fact that Dean was pulling the car over to the side of the road.

Dean parked the car, and looked hard at me. "You know, I don't want you to just sit there feeling so guilty and sorry for yourself."

"Hey, no chick flick moments." I threw his own words back at him.

Dean smirked at me. "Who said anything about chick flick moments? I just thought that maybe you should take a look at my chest. But if you don't _want_ to…"

"Let me just get the stuff." I didn't care that we were on the side of the road – at least Dean actually _wanted_ my help now.


End file.
